tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4690833803143455132018-03-05T07:53:22.945-08:00Finding Faith One girls journey of growing up, discovering the meaning of true love, and learning to let it go.
This is my adoption story. Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09903041933739916810noreply@blogger.comBlogger7125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469083380314345513.post-56486321143085838842014-04-06T21:54:00.000-07:002014-04-06T22:27:10.174-07:00A Forever Home: Part 2I will never forget the feeling I got when I initially fell in love with T's parents. I was reading their "letter to a birth mom" and with each word you could just tell how much they loved one another. You may have questioned why my blog url is titled "crying gets the sad out", well it's because of something that T's dad said in that letter. They were talking about going through hard times together and how whenever T's soon to be mom would have a bad day, her dad would sing "it's okay to cry, crying gets the sad out." I don't know why this little phrase stuck with me so much, but there was just something about it that expressed to me the love they shared for one another and the understanding he had for his wife in her hard times.<br><br>There are just so many reasons why I fell in love with this couple, but at the end of the day, it was because of their love for each other that allowed me to know that they were THE couple. I remember the first time we met each other "face to face". We were in a small meeting room at LDS family services and there were 6 of us in there. T's soon to be parents, myself, Will, my mom, and our social workers. It was rather an awkward meeting. I was so nervous for that day. I felt like I had to prove myself to them. I was stressed about what I was going to wear (now when I look back on pictures I still ask myself, "WHAT were you wearing!?"), what I was going to say, and how they were going to react to me, and to Will. I was however not nervous, that they were not the couple for my baby. I don't think I even thought twice about it. While I can't speak for them, I am sure they were quite nervous and had a lot of the same feelings, thinking they had to prove themselves to me, but I already undoubtedly knew that they were the parents for my baby.<br><br>I remember when they first walked into the room. It was as if they walked as one person. She didn't talk much, and I could tell she was nervous, but the way that he protected her, and spoke for her, was amazing to me. He knew exactly what to say, and how to say it, and she never questioned it or looked as if he was speaking wrongfully. If I thought I was amazed by their love in their letter I was literally blown away by the love I was able to see when they were together in person. Meeting them in person only solidified my decision more, and made the next few months of pregnancy so much easier.<br><br>We met one more time before T was born (this time my Dad came), and I continued to feel sure of my decision to place with them. Over those last few months before T made her debut, they would write to me about their daily doings and her mom would send me pictures and hilarious stories that were involved with getting T's nursery put together. They allowed me to be a part of their excitement and shared with me every moment they could that involved them getting ready to bring T into their home. She would be their first born and the baby that would officially make them parents. It was remarkable and is still remarkable to be able to be a part of that. Having a sister who is not able to have biological children, I knew somewhat of the trials they had faced as an adoptive couple dealing with infertility, and I felt so incredibly blessed to be a part of their process of becoming a family.<br><br>While I didn't understand it in the beginning, as time went on, I really began to have an understanding for the plan of salvation, and the roles that we were to play in one another's lives. I feel strongly that some time before this earthly life that T's parents and I made a promise to one another and vowed to be there for each other during this time of trial for all of us involved. I remember her dad saying that he too felt strongly of this and that in some way had a memory of us raising our hands and saying "I'll be there for you!"<br><br>I feel eternally blessed that they trusted me with her life for those 9 months. I do not take lightly the responsibility that was put on me to bring her here to this life, and I am thankful daily that I was allowed to be her mother for even a small moment. While I wish they would have never had to deal with their issues of infertility, I am SO grateful that they were there waiting and ready to be T's parents when I needed them to be. If there is one thing I do not doubt in my mind, it is that she is and was forever meant to be theirs. While I of course have my bad days, and sometimes wonder what it may be like to have a 9 year old, and have even had small moments of regret, I stop and think about the confirmation that was made to me those 9 years ago, and know that I cannot doubt the decision I made.<br><br>It is remarkable to me how much T looks like her dad. If you didn't know she was adopted, you would never guess she was. Her dad, although I didn't know him yet, was the main reason I chose adoption in the first place. He was who I couldn't be, and who I wanted to have in my child's life. I needed her to have a dad she could call her hero, and BOY does she have a dad that IS her hero. He amazes me daily with who he is as a father and a husband and I could have never provided her with someone better. Her mom is the most amazing women who throws the most spectacular parties. Saying she throws parties might sound vain to some but if you knew the love and effort she puts into these parties you would know that they speak VOLUMES for how much she loves her daughters. I am thankful that T has her for a mom. I know that in my moments of wishing that I was the one there for her when she has her first crush, or her heart is broken for the first time, that her mom will be there for her, and my longing to be that person isn't so hard.<br><br>I truly could not have picked better people to be her parents. In reality, they picked me. Somewhere before this life, they picked me. I am overwhelmed with the comfort I receive when I think of her in their home, and although there are times of trial and grief, I am reminded of their love, and the pain literally seems to melt away. Even if I still don't understand it now, and am not sure I will ever understand it completely, I trust that the Lord knew what He was doing that day their names popped up on my computer screen, and He knew even more so what He was doing when He gave us the opportunity to work together to bring their daughter home.<br><br><br>Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09903041933739916810noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469083380314345513.post-23841169233180454542014-03-27T18:03:00.001-07:002014-03-27T18:09:44.382-07:00A Forever Home: Part 1Finding T's parents was probably the hardest thing I've ever done next to actually placing her in their arms. When finding a forever home for your baby you want to find the best home possible, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little snobbish about the whole process. I wanted that "it" couple who had everything. When it came down to it, none of those "it" things mattered, it really did all come down to a simple feeling.<br /><br />Before finding T's forever home, I had actually found another couple who I was SURE were meant to be her parents. There names were Wade and Angie. I am choosing not to disclose their names in hope that maybe someone will read this and know who I am talking about so that I might be able to get in touch with them again. When I was pregnant the adoption world was not even close to as open as it is now and all communication was done through the agency. I know their faces thanks to pictures, and am pretty sure they live or did live in Utah, but otherwise I know nothing more about them than their names and that they have two daughters. Although I ended up not choosing them for T's forever home, they helped me in a way no one else ever could. They were a crucial part to my story.<br /><br />Wade and Angie were seriously the "it" couple. I still remember Angie writing something in their birth parent letter that talked about their house being the "kool-aid" house. They already had two daughters and their home was always open to all the neighborhood kids and their friends. She talked about how knocking rarely happened and kids would just come in and out and that their house was always filled with laughter. I loved this about them. I fell in love with everything about them. We started corresponding.<br /><br />After a few weeks of correspondence with them they had told me that they had hopes for a little boy in their home, and were quite sure that through prayers and other circumstances that their home was waiting for and meant to have 2 little boys. At this time in my pregnancy I had not yet found out if I was having a boy or a girl, but I distinctly felt a little girl in my presence, and with their news, I knew they were not meant to be T's parents. I was heart broken. I didn't understand why I was led to them, and allowed to love them, if they weren't meant to be. It wasn't until I found T's true parents and forever home that I understood. I think the Lord knew that I needed a road block, and that finding the "it" couple was not the way to go about things. It wasn't about what they had, it was about who they were. While I know that Wade and Angie are probably two very remarkable people, they turned out not to be the remarkable people for me and my sweet baby girl.<br /><br />This is when I turned to the internet and www.itsaboutlove.org to start the new search for T's parents. In 100% honesty I had actually scrolled past her parents names 4 or 5 times before I finally clicked on them. I don't know why I was so resistant, and it wasn't until my mom came to visit and sit down to search couples with me that I finally clicked on their names. After reading through their profile, I think we both knew instantly that they were right for me and my baby. I didn't want to jump the gun so quickly this time though, so I wrote their names down on a piece of paper next to several other couples names and put a star next to theirs. That night I think I read their profile 100 more times and shared it with Will. I wanted him to be a part of the picking process, and thankfully he seemed to love them too, specifically the adoptive dad's love for the outdoors and fishing. I can't really tell Will's side of the story, because I am not him, but I don't want to leave out that he was a part of it. I am thankful that he was a part of it.<br /><br />The next week when I went to see my case worker I told him the news, and told him of the new couple I wished to be T's parents. He promised me he would look up their information and get back to me on their availability as their names were not showing up in the database anymore. I was worried.<br /><br />Later that afternoon I got a phone call from him and he told me that unfortunately they had been chosen by another girl and were at the time on a "soft hold" through the agency. To my understanding a soft hold meant that they were being looked at by another girl, but placement had not yet gone through. There was a small glimmer of hope left that things might still work out, but I was broken. Why was I led to another family that wasn't going to work out? Why did I have to fall in love with someone and get my heart broken again?<br /><br />A week went by and there was no word on if the couple I wanted for my baby was available. I went to my weekly therapy session with my case worker and asked him if there was any change in their status. Unfortunately there wasn't. I was defeated. I had another couple in mind and told myself that if things didn't change soon, I would pick this other couple. I can't even remember their names now, they didn't stand out in my heart, or my mind, they were a last resort. That entire week leading up to my session, I prayed, and I cried, and I prayed, and I cried some more. I felt hopeless. I was at my breaking point. The Lord had led me to the decision of adoption, why couldn't I be led to the right couple for my baby?<br /><br />What happened next can only be explained as a miracle in my mind. I always met with my case worker right before the weekly support group with other expecting girls and birth moms. Before going in to group I had to leave the building to gain my composure. I was in tears and completely distraught with the fact that the couple I had chosen was not available. I wanted them, I knew they were right, but I couldn't have them. I was furious. I didn't understand. After gathering my tears and preparing myself for another group session I walked into the group room a few minutes late. I looked around and my case worker was not in the room. This was odd because he had walked in before me and he usually led the group discussions. After a few minutes of keeping my head down and not really paying attention to what was being said by the other girls, he walked into the room, with a profile in his hands. He came over to me and dropped it on the table. It was them!! T's parents were staring up at me. In a matter of 15 minutes they went from "not available" to AVAILABLE!! Somehow during my time of defeat, this other birthmother who had "chosen" them, changed her mind. I don't know who she is, or what made her change her mind, all I know is why. She changed her mind because this couple was not hers, they were mine. Selfishly and possessively, they were mine.<br /><br /><br />Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09903041933739916810noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469083380314345513.post-43347840243947211382014-03-11T13:23:00.001-07:002014-03-11T13:23:56.844-07:00Decisions I'm pretty sure I fought the choice of adoption for as long as I possibly could. I don't think it was because I didn't want adoption to be the answer, but I just wanted to be absolutely 100% sure that I was making the right choice for my baby.<br /><br />I had always known about adoption in my life, so it's kind of funny I didn't think of it right away as an option. My sister and her husband weren't able to have biological children and this was something I had always known. They also knew that adoption would most likely be the way they would have to go when it came to bringing their children home. They had had their paperwork active at their adoption agency for almost 2 years when I found out I was pregnant. I'm sure you can imagine the pain (and anger) my sister went through when she found out. It's most definitely not fair that an 18 year old girl who had no plans of parenthood in her near future was able to get pregnant, and she wasn't. It still doesn't seem fair, but it's the nature of the beast. It's the nature of the beauty of adoption. Thankfully, despite the anger and hurt that she felt, she was there for me and supported me through everything. Of course she had her moments of silence and there was a matter of weeks where she didn't talk to me, but she had her right, and I didn't blame her. I hate that it took my sisters pain to really understand that choosing adoption would ultimately bless a family eternally, but I'm thankful for the lessons that I learned from her and her husband.<br /><br />Coming to the choice of adoption didn't come easy. The first time I really knew it was the decision I had to make was when I was looking through a file of paperwork that talked about the statistics of children being raised in a one parent home. While reading I was hit with a distinct memory of being 8 years old and wanting my Dad. He no longer lived with us, and I couldn't just call on him whenever I needed him. My young 8 year old self didn't understand why my Dad wasn't there and why I couldn't just talk to him whenever I wanted to. It was in that moment that I knew my baby needed and deserved more. Even with that distinct impression, I still fought it. It wasn't until a couple weeks later that I knew I could no longer fight my decision.<br /><br />I cried and prayed every night for an answer, but I still didn't feel comfortable with saying "yes, adoption is my choice." I mentioned before that I had been working with LDS family services and my bishop. That Sunday as I attended church meetings I came across my bishop in the hall. Because I had moved from my apartment into a new home with my host family, I was no longer in the same ward, and was now seeing a new bishop (I will talk more about him later), it was my old bishop that I came face to face with in the hall. I had the very distinct feeling that I needed to talk to him and asked him if we could meet. We went into his office and I immediately told him that I had found my answer. I didn't know what I was saying. I had found my answer? I didn't tell him I was choosing adoption, or that I had decided to single parent, I simply said I know what I need to do. Did I? I was so confused by what just happened and know now that the Lord play a huge part in me speaking those words. It would be because of that moment that my prayers were ultimately answered.<br /><br />I rushed home from church and immediately went to my room. I fell to my knees and I prayed. Upon finishing my prayer, I looked up from my bed and to my wall. On my wall I kept a pin board filled with pictures of friends and little sayings. My eyes went to a quote at the bottom of my board. It read "The greatest risk is not taking one." In that, I found my answer. Adoption seemed too hard, the heartache seemed like it would be too much, I didn't want to risk the pain. Obviously I now knew that I needed to take the risk. I knew that regardless of the heartache that was sure to come, and regardless of what was sure to be the longest road of pain I would ever walk along, I had to take the risk. I can't explain fully why that quote led me to finally admit things, but it did, and it was what I needed.<br /><br />Finally. I had an answer. But now that I had an answer, what was the next step? How was I to prepare myself for what was bound to be the hardest thing I had ever done? How was I to know where my baby was supposed to go? Sure, I knew that I was supposed to place her for adoption, but where was I to place her? Suddenly the decision of choosing adoption seemed easy. I now had a whole new set of choices ahead of me and I was afraid of where to start.Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09903041933739916810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469083380314345513.post-19627417811870805862014-03-06T16:02:00.001-08:002014-03-06T16:02:36.147-08:00BrokenI often look back on my life and think about the "what ifs" and "how comes". It's quite silly actually considering there is absolutely nothing I can do to change the things that have already passed, and the simple fact that I truly love my life today. Perhaps I do it to remind myself to be smarter, to make the right decisions now, or perhaps it's just my natural way of thinking, of wondering how life might be. Two things are for certain, it wouldn't be the same, and I wouldn't want it to be any other way.&nbsp;<div><br /></div><div>Before getting in a relationship with Will, I was in a previous relationship with the same boy for nearly 3 years. He was one of my brothers best friends and had been our entire childhood. I think I had a crush on him always. His family had moved away from our home town for a few years and I had pretty much forgotten about him until they ended up moving back my sophomore year of high school. I'm pretty sure I fell for him instantly.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>He was a fellow member of my church. I remember our first day of seminary together I asked him to go to lunch with me. I had never been that straight forward with a boy. We started dating a few weeks later. Our relationship was off and on for the next 3 years. We had our ups and our downs, but we always ended coming back to one another. Without going into all the details, I was positive I was going to marry him. He was a good kid, from a good family, and we fit together. We were that couple, we were going to be the surviving high school sweethearts who made it. Then the time came for him to go on a mission. He was a year older than me so when I was a senior he had already graduated and gone away to college. Our relationship changed once he moved. We both were finding ourselves outside from one another. I was still sure I was going to marry him. I was going to wait for him during those 2 years he was away on his mission, and we were going to find one another again. All of that changed the day I received his letter.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I can't tell you exactly what that letter said, but I can tell you that it broke me. To sum it up he basically told me I wasn't good enough. That he didn't want me to wait for him, and that I should move on with my life. It's stupid really how much I let his opinion of me shake me. I took it to an entirely new level of low.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>This was my starting point. My breaking point. I for sure had made mistakes in the past, but it was in that time that I told myself "he thinks I'm not good enough, well I'm going to be "not good enough"". I was stupid.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>Enter Will. While I was stupid in SO many of the decisions I was making, I don't think dating Will was one of them. We were both naive, and we both made mistakes, but we were friends, and we cared for each other. During that time in my life he was the only one who just let me be me. I never felt like he was judging me or expecting me to be someone I wasn't. Being with someone so easy going though makes it very easy to be "easy going." Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would allow myself to give my virginity before marriage, and certainly I never thought it would be with someone I had just started dating. Will and I were only together a total of 7 months and compared to my previous relationship, this was not a long time at all. My heart was still healing from losing the person I thought to be the love of my life. I allowed myself to be vulnerable, and it was stupid. It wasn't fair to Will. It wasn't fair to myself. If I could go back, if I could change things, I wish I wouldn't have depended so fully on someone else to make me feel whole.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I remember the night it happened for the first time like it was yesterday. I hate that I remember it. I cried after it happened. Not later that night, not the next day, like immediately right after it happened. I knew I had made a mistake. I'm ashamed to say I continued to make the same mistake. Eventually my mistakes would be made visible to the world. I couldn't hide behind my pain anymore.&nbsp;I couldn't pretend like it was all ok. I think I allowed myself to think it was okay because I was hurting, because I was aching. Eventually the mistake became a habit and I was numb to what I was doing.&nbsp;&nbsp;Eventually, I ended up pregnant.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>Ending up pregnant turned out to be my greatest blessing. I talk about going back and changing things, but I don't know if I would change that. Of course I never wanted to be pregnant at 18, of course I wish I could have learned the lessons I did without having to be hit with such a life altering situation, but without it, T wouldn't be in this world. I am so beyond blessed that T is in this world! I've always said that trials are blessings in disguise, and it was my trial of being broken that led me to her.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>It's a hard circumstance to explain. So many families can't be families without adoption, but how can their be adoption without unplanned pregnancies? In no way do I condone teen pregnancy or sex before marriage, but I also don't deny that MAJOR blessings can come from these circumstances. My own family, outside of my own personal story, has been blessed by adoption. Without the unplanned pregnancy of a young girl in Georgia, my sister wouldn't have her son. This situation is the same for SO many families. Is it crazy to say that I am thankful for being broken? Is it crazy for me to say that I am thankful to have been a part of something bigger than myself by getting pregnant at 18 and choosing to place my child for adoption? Is it crazy to be thankful for my mistakes? If it is, well then I'm crazy. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm not naive though. I won't pretend that with all the blessings, there weren't also a lot of tears. There has been so much heartache, so many late nights wondering, not understanding. That's an entire post of it's own though. A post for another day.&nbsp;</div>Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09903041933739916810noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469083380314345513.post-15062507356402954052014-03-04T22:09:00.001-08:002014-03-06T22:50:55.204-08:00The first month...Right after I graduated from high school I loaded up my little Honda Civic, said goodbye to family and friends, and took off for college. It was literally the weekend after I graduated. I was so excited to start the next step of my life and ready to be "on my own." It was only 2 weeks after I moved that I found out I was pregnant. I hadn't even settled in yet. The idea of moving back home was not an easy one to swallow.<br><br>The day I found out I was pregnant I had just gotten back in to town from a visit back home. Although I moved to a new place, it was only a matter of 3 hours away so going home was easy. I was pulling out of the canyon and into the new town that I planned to make my home for the next few years. As I drove over the hill I had a strong feeling that I needed to go and buy a pregnancy test. I timidly walked in to Walmart and was nervous the entire time. I was embarrassed to be in that aisle of the store. I was embarrassed that I wasn't married and I felt like all eyes were on me. I'm pretty sure that not a single person even noticed, but it felt like they were all staring me down. I had always looked older than I was but I am sure I didn't look old enough to be buying a pregnancy test. I was ashamed. I slid the ring I was wearing on my right hand to my left ring finger as I waited in line to check out (because I'm sure the cashier was looking) and I was physically shaking the entire time I waited. I rushed to my car and sped back to my apartment. I opened the bag and looked down. I had bought the WRONG THING. I was so nervous I didn't even realize that I had bought a pregnancy planning kit, as opposed to a pregnancy test. I felt like I was being mocked. Now I had to drive back to the store in hopes they'd let me return it and purchase the right thing. Start entire awkward situation over. It was awful.<br><br>Upon returning to my apartment for a second time, I went to the bathroom alone, and I took the test. I wasn't shocked when I saw the results. I think I knew even before having the feeling to take the test that I was pregnant. This just confirmed it. The first person I called was my close friend. She jumped into her car that same day and drove through a thunderstorm to be with me that night. I don't think she will ever be able to know how much her friendship meant to me at that time. Things would transpire later in the pregnancy to test our friendship, but either way, she was there for me in the beginning, and it meant everything. I knew the next person I would have to call was Will, he of course was the next person in line who mattered most in this journey. I really should have called him first. I don't know why I didn't. Probably fear. I didn't know how he would react to what I was going to tell him. I probably owed him an explanation in person, but I couldn't do that. I can't speak for him as far as his true reaction goes, but he was nothing but supportive towards me. That first week he sent a package in the mail with a teddy bear and $20 for me to go do something to "get my mind off of things". He was there for me to talk to, and he did the best he could. As I mentioned in the previous post, we had broken up, so it would have been very easy for him to just walk away, but he didn't. He was there for me. I know I'm lucky for that. I knew after telling Will that I had to call my parents. If I thought I was terrified to tell him, I was even more so by the thought of telling them. I knew they were going to be disappointed.<br><br>I decided to call my Dad first. I come from a divorced parent home, and in that time I felt like my Dad would be more forgiving. I think perhaps it was because I knew he had made errors of his own in life and I felt he wouldn't be as harsh. His first response after I told him was "I already knew." This came as a shock to me. How could he know? How could he possibly know? He knew because I was his daughter. He knew because as secretive as I thought I was being, I wore my mistakes on my face. Maybe not everyone knew I was pregnant, but they knew the decisions I was making in my relationship. Oh how naive I was back then, thinking I could keep it a secret. I asked my Dad if he would tell my Mom. He did. I look back on that decision now and wish I would have called my Mom myself. I owed that to her.<br><br>My Mom and I had never really seen eye to eye on things. We were constantly arguing and I seemed to know just how to push her to the limit. I'm very much an outspoken person when it comes to my emotions. I want to put things out in the open and handle the problem in the here and now, my Mom likes to sit on things, and take a breather. I think I'd be better off if I took some of that trait from her. I'm stubborn and I push issues when they shouldn't be pushed. There are several times in my life that I can look back on and think if I had just shut my mouth things could have turned out a lot differently. I'm still learning. My Mom's reaction wasn't surprising. She was angry, but she was loving. I would learn over the next few months that my Mom was the most patient and understanding person I had ever known. I'm sad that it took me getting pregnant to learn that. She became my best friend through everything. Both her and my Dad were very supportive of whatever I was to decide, and they both let me make the decision on my own. I am thankful for that. In the passing years I would come to learn of their true feelings on the situation and I admire them both for holding back and letting me figure things out on my own.<br><br>Going to college was no longer an option for me. I knew that I couldn't focus on my studies and make the best decision possible for this baby at the same time. I needed to put my entire attention on the situation at hand. Although I was no longer going to college, I knew I couldn't move back home. A lot of my friends told me I was running away and I know a lot of them thought I left to hide the pregnancy, but that wasn't it at all. I wasn't hiding anything, I just knew I couldn't make the best decision possible by moving back home. I am from a small town. Everyone knew. Everyone had their opinions.<br><br>From the day my mom found out I was pregnant she was on the phone with my bishop back home. I grew up as a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (Mormon) and despite my shortcomings, I still very much had the desire to be the girl I was always raised to be. I grew up knowing that having sex before marriage was wrong, but I did it anyway. Regardless, I knew I wanted to be better and that I needed council from my Heavenly Father. My bishop directed us to LDS&nbsp;Family Services and immediately I started seeing a counselor. My counselor would become my confidant and the one person I could trust with everything I was feeling. He was the one person I knew who didn't have an outside opinion on my life, and I was grateful for that. Thankfully he was very much aware of my want to not move back home and opened the doors to an opportunity to live with a host family during my pregnancy.<br><br>Moving in with complete strangers was terrifying and intimidating, but for me it was a better option than moving back home. I would come to love the family I moved in with and consider them very much a part of my own family to this day. They opened their home up to a girl they knew nothing about and trusted me to be a part of their lives. They were an adoptive couple who were parents to a beautiful 2 year old little girl, and their love and example would come to play a HUGE role in my life and in my decision to place T for adoption.<br><br>A lot was happening that first month, and I knew there was only more to come. I went from moving into an apartment, getting ready to start college in the fall, to being pregnant and moving in with complete strangers. Talk about a weird turn of events. Never in my life would I have imagined any of this to happen. I think I got lucky though. Will was my first. I had never been sexually active with any other guy and would never be sexually active with another man again until I met my husband and was married. I say I got lucky because I was headed down a slippery slope. I had already made several poor decisions and I was certain I would have probably made more. By no means am I perfect now, but I have certainly never made any further poor choices that would alter my life so immensely. Getting pregnant with T was my saving grace. I often joke that it was God's way of throwing a rock at my head. It caused me to reevaluate what choices I was making and what I was doing with my life. It also taught me that every decision I made didn't only effect me, and that in one way or another my choices ALWAYS effected someone else. It was in that first month of pregnancy that I really started to learn about putting others needs before my own. There was a child growing inside me, and I could no longer put my needs first, every decision from that point on would make a difference in that babies life, and I knew I didn't want to screw anything up. Before I even knew her, I loved her, and I had to do whatever it took to give her the life she deserved.<br><br><br>Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09903041933739916810noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469083380314345513.post-11083908823160289302014-03-04T16:38:00.003-08:002014-03-06T22:51:47.904-08:00In the beginning...It seems impossible to know where to begin. I've never really told my story in it's entirety before. For the sake of it being the "beginning" I guess I should put the disclaimer out there that some names will be changed and locations may not be the same, otherwise my story will be the truth. Or at least the truth from my eyes.&nbsp;<div><br></div><div>I placed a little girl for adoption 9 years ago. I have a pretty open relationship with her parents when it comes to communication and being able to share my feelings, otherwise our relationship is what some might consider as "closed" in todays society of adoption norms. I have not seen T since the day I placed her. She was 3 days old. Her life is shared with me through pictures and letters and although at times it is tough, I am sincerely grateful for what her parents have given me. It is for her sake, as well as theirs that I am choosing to keep their names confidential. &nbsp;</div><div><br></div><div>I was 18 years old when I found out I was pregnant. That was back in 2004. I had been dating the birthfather <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">for only 6 months. Before him I had dated the same guy off and on for almost 3 years. He was who I thought to be the love of my life. When we went our separate ways, we went on a not so good note. I was broken. During that time I dragged another guy down into the dirt with me. He was not one of the other 2 previously mentioned. He was amazing and kind and one of my dearest friends. I treated him poorly, and he did not deserve it. I wish I could go back on that time. To change the way I treated him. But that's another story.&nbsp;</span></div><div><br></div><div>For the sake of story telling I suppose these guys should have names. I know who I am talking about as I write about them, but again for confidential purposes I will change their names. The guy I had been dating for 6 months before finding out I was pregnant, we will call him Will, he is the birthfather. For now, his name is enough. After all, he's the main guy in the beginning of this story.&nbsp;</div><div><br></div><div>Will was only 16. I can't explain to you why I dated such a younger guy, all I can say is he made me feel special. After coming out of my previous 3 year relationship, I needed someone to make me feel special. Reading that now the term "needed" sounds terrible, but at the time, it was how I felt. I wish I would have found ground on my own two feet. I wish I never would have felt like I needed a guy to hold me up and make me feel better than I thought I was. It was through the beginning parts of my adoption journey that I began to learn that I was better and that I deserved better.&nbsp;</div><div><br></div><div>I had just graduated high school when I found out about the pregnancy. Abortion was never an option for me. Will and I had gone our separate ways in our relationship but remained friends. He was supportive from the beginning, or as supportive as a 16 yr old boy could be. I don't think I ever gave him enough credit for how much he was there. I wish I knew his side of things in their entirety, but that's his story to share. We knew we couldn't be parents, but the choice of adoption didn't come to us until 4 or 5 months into the pregnancy. I had always known about adoption, but I was set on being a single mom.&nbsp;</div><div><br></div><div>I graduated from high school with the idea of moving away to college and starting life out on my own. When I started being sexually active in my relationship with Will I never thought anyone would ever need to know about it. We knew we weren't meant to be forever (I like to think I thought we were) but reality is, we weren't. I never imagined that the first big thing to happen to me after high school would be pregnancy. I laugh at myself as I type the words "happen to me". It didn't just happen to me, I caused it to happen. I thought I was being careful, obviously I wasn't. I was supposed to start school in the fall, I was supposed to be a carefree college student with classes, and football games, and late nights out with my friends ahead of me. I couldn't think about any of those things anymore. There was something else, someone else, stopping me. I now had a major life decision to make, and I had no idea what I was going to do.&nbsp;</div><div>&nbsp;</div>Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09903041933739916810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469083380314345513.post-2987233212945101252014-03-04T16:08:00.000-08:002014-03-04T17:13:27.719-08:00Why now?I've always been open to the fact that I'm a birthmom. I've never shouted it from the roof tops, but I've never been afraid to share. Ask me a question, and I'll answer it.<br><br>Over the past 9 years I've had opportunities to share my story. I've sat on panels, guest blogged for other adoption pages, and sat in group settings surrounded by other girls who too found themselves in the same situation I found myself in the summer of 2004. In all of those settings I've had to cut my story down to the "short version", given only 15-20 minutes to speak, or 2-3 pages to write. There is no way I could ever tell my story in that alloted amount of time. I've been afraid to open myself to the world. I'm afraid of the negativity that I am is sure to come, and I'm afraid of what are truths in my mind, might do to others. I'm tired of being scared.<br><br>I've started several blogs and have always failed. I was good at maintaining my family &nbsp;blog once upon a time, but then instagram happened and I stopped. I began a blog about my journey of "learning to love myself" and although I haven't given up on it entirely, I've struggled with allowing myself to be that open about the inner sufferings of who I am as a person. So why do I think this blog will succeed? I'm not 100% sure it will, but I want to try. I've been inspired by several of my birthmom friends and have seen the growth that has come from them in sharing their stories. I am ready to grow. Some might call it a trend, but I say that's ridiculous. Each of our stories are different. Each of our stories are our own. Maybe no one will read this and maybe no one will care, but I've realized that it is time for me to write it down. It is time for me to let go of all the fears and let my story be heard, even if I'm the only one listening.<br><br>I'm not an English major and have never been the best with grammar. I don't believe my story to be better than others, I only know it to be unique and my own. I often find myself trapped in a circle of emotions and often have a major lack of expressing myself properly. My one hope out of all of this is to grow and to find peace amongst myself and in my adoption journey. I've always been confident in my choice of adoption, but that doesn't take away the pain or the struggles that often come with it. I don't just want to talk about the struggles, but I also want to highlight the joys. I want a place to come &nbsp;back to where I can read and remember that things are good, when times seem tough.<br><br>This is where I'll share my story.Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09903041933739916810noreply@blogger.com0